


I need a love to free me from this love

by Perelynn



Category: The Borgias: The Original Crime Family (2011)
Genre: F/M, Politics, Sibling Incest, mindgames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-25 18:41:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perelynn/pseuds/Perelynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-season 3, and instead of Borgia Apocalypse.<br/>Lucrezia is kidnapped, but her captor's behavior makes no sense. However, with Cesare in hot pursuit, it would hardly matter for long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She mourns Alfonso, but she has Cesare, she truly has him for the first time since childhood. He lives for her. They make love without shame. He seems to have embraced the temptation he was resisting for so long. Their nights are full of long-awaited pleasures, and the taste of the forbidden fruit is sweet indeed.

They keep façade of decency in public. It has become so much easier to refrain from touching him endlessly, knowing that at night they will have all the touches they want.

As much as her body rejoices, Lucrezia's mind is troubled. She once vowed to herself to save her brother. She is afraid it is too late now. He is lost to God's law. But he is strong and fearless and daring, and he gains more and more power. He now makes his own laws. Sometimes Lucrezia asks herself if he really needs saving.

***

Lucrezia awakes one morning from the rocking movement, as if her bed is swaying back and forth. She opens her eyes and finds herself in a carriage, comfortable and beautifully decorated. The carriage is moving.

She calls, and the movement stops. The door creaks, letting in an unfamiliar face. The man is tall and dark, with pleasant features and grey in his hair. His doublet is blue velvet embroidered intricately with silver, his breeches black, his boots new and a little muddy. He tells her his name: Alfonso d'Este, Duke of Ferrara.

She screams for her son. The stranger nods. A maid is brought in with the baby. Giovanny is very busy with a new brightly-colored wooden soldier. The boy is not impressed with his mother's sudden kisses at all.

Doors close, the carriage starts moving again.

'Am I your prisoner?' Lucrezia asks the man who kidnapped her.

'My guest,' Alfonso replies calmly.

'An unwilling guest is a prisoner, my lord.'

'In your case, only the first part is true,' he assures.

'My brother is going to eviscerate you,' she tells him, 'when he catches up with us.'

'I have no doubts he would,' Duke of Ferrara agrees. 'But I have a good reason to believe he never will.' 

There is something about his bearings that makes Lucrezia feel uneasy. He's very sure of himself. Too sure.

'You don't know my brother,' she says.

'On the contrary,' he objects. 'I know him very well. I know his strengths - and I know better than to look for his weaknesses. His only weakness is sitting in front of me right now.'

'My brother will do everything to free me,' she promises him.

His answer surprises her.

'He will not have to. You will be free in just a couple of days'.

'How so?' she demands.

Duke of Ferrara says nothing. He smiles, stops the carriage and gets out, leaving Lucrezia alone with her son and her thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

For the night, they stop in a cozy hunting house standing in the middle of dense forest. Lucrezia is allowed to walk around freely. There is no hope for her to bushwhack in these thickets.

She is given magnificent rooms, big, airy and richly furnished, worthy of kings. Her noble gaoler invites her to join him for dinner. She accepts the invitation graciously. There is nothing else to do anyway. Absent-mindedly, she touches a ring on her finger. But she will not have a need of it tonight. Not yet.

The pheasant with the sauce of lemon and parsley is delicious. The venison with plums and cherries is remarkable. The dessert of fresh rose mesh is a rare delicacy indeed. The wine is red and sweet and strong. 

Lucrezia frowns at the duke as he pours generously both into her cup and into his own. He also looks at her - oh, she knows this look in men's eyes. But he is very polite and pleasant, and it doesn't seem like he is planning to force himself on her. 

Soon she finds herself deep in a conversation she never expected to happen. A conversation about Cesare.

'Your brother is a dangerous man,' the duke states. 'Clever and vicious. And disastrously unhappy, I might add. I've been watching him for quite a while.'

'Have you?' she prompts, hoping to get more information out of an enemy. 

'I have. I find him fascinating, quite fascinating. Absolutely ruthless.'

Alfonso doesn't mind talking, it seems. It delights her and unnerves her at the same time. A man needs to be a fool to talk freely in the presence of foes, and Alfonso d'Este doesn't look like a fool to her.

'So, the fact that my brother is a killer is fascinating to you?' she asks.

He shrugs. 

'People have been killing each other for centuries.'

She raises an eyebrow.

'So, killing is acceptable then?' 

'No. Destruction of your own kind is a crime, a sin. However, sometimes killing is just a logical flow of things. I can absolutely see you, for instance, killing a man who threatens your child.' 

Lucrezia winces, but Alfonso continues without any notice of that.

'Or any mother in your place, for that matter. Soldiers kill each other on the battlefield. Kings hang miscreants. Sometimes there is a fine line between killing unnecessarily and killing for a just reason. Very fine line indeed. You have to make the choice. Every time.'

'And what if you chose wrong?' she asks, mesmerized. 

'You have to live with it.'

Lucrezia wonders at how casually this man answered the question that tormented her. He didn't tell her anything new, but the way he worded it... it soothed her. A little. A lot.

'Why do you think my brother is unhappy?'

'I observed Cesare Borgia on many occasions. And the only time when I saw a smile on his face was when you were nearby. I hardly need to guess why.'

'Would you care to elaborate, my lord?' Lucrezia asks sweetly, but there is poison beneath her dulcet tones. 

'Why, you are beautiful, smart, diplomatic... and a Borgia. You clearly are someone he can trust. A man like that must be in a desperate need of a safe haven.'

That's not the answer she expected to hear. And yet it's true. Lucrezia smiles genuinely, and is rewarded with a spark of admiration in the grey eyes. She arches against her chair, pretending to be examining the wine. It's red as blood.

'You said you've been watching him,' she says. 'Does it mean you watched me as well?

'To some degree,' the duke admits lightly. 'Mostly because of your brother. Oh, don't look so offended. The only other reason to watch you closely is your availability as a bride, but I would be very cautious before approaching you from this angle. Your husbands tend not to live long.'

'Tread carefully, my lord,' she warns him.

'Your first husband was an ignorant brute,' he continues, unabashed. 'Your second was a nice boy, noble and innocent, but he came too late. I remember Lucrezia Borgia, a sweet child of thirteen, whom I saw right before Rodrigo Borgia became Pope Alexander VI. That child would love Alfonso d'Aragona. But the woman I see in front of me would tire of him very quickly.'

This is close to the heart. Too close. Lucrezia stands up.

'What are your plans for me, my lord?' she demands.

'Oh, I have almost no plans to speak of,' he says. 'You will spend another day in my company, and then I will just leave you in any road inn of your choosing.'

She frowns. 

'It doesn't make sense,'' she says. 'Why kidnap me, if you're just going to let me go?'

'This, my beautiful lady, is for you to guess on your own.'

He stands up, too, and bids her good night.


	3. Chapter 3

Next morning, she demands a horseback ride. Her wish is granted. The fresh breeze on her face feels good, the green of leaves and grass is refreshing. Duke of Ferrara bows his head when she approaches and rides alongside him.

'I solved your riddle,' she declares.

'Did you?' he answers, his grey eyes amused.

'My brother's army was marching on your lands. Well, to Forli, to be precise. The citizens there are going unruly, demanding the return of their mistress, Caterina Sforza. And Ferrara stood unattended, all its forces tied up in the war with Venice. My brother's army would pillage your city. You needed a diversion.'

'You are as clever as you a beautiful, my lady.'

'But Cesare will still march there after he gets me back!'

'Ah,' the duke smiles. 'But by then the situation will change.'

'The Mantua lord,' Lucrezia realizes. 'He'll bring reinforcements.'

Alfonso bows. Lucrezia feels proud and annoyed in the same time. 

'My brother will still remember,' she tells him. 'Even if his wrath is not upon you immediately, he will not forget. You will pay dearly for this small trick.'

The lord shakes his head.

'Your brother will always have enemies he hates more than myself. Enemies who hurt him, enemies who made him bleed. I did nothing of the sort. I have no intention of harming you in any way.'

'It remains to be seen,' Lucrezia murmurs. 

'Besides, political enmities and alliances are very short-lived regardless,' the duke continues pleasantly. 'You get in league with someone when you need it and you get out of it as soon as the need passes. The only way to ensure long-time loyalty is blood.' Alfonso chuckles at the double meaning of his words. 'Francesco Gonzaga, the lord of Mantua, is only loyal to me because he is married to my sister.'

'My brother prefers other ways of binding people, she remarks. 

The duke merely nods. They ride in silence for a while. The sun is getting high in the sky, and Lucrezia thanks gods their road is shady.

'Tell me about Ferrara,' she asks. 'You went into a great trouble to protect your city.'

'And I have no regrets,' Alfonso replies. 'For Ferrara is beautiful. My father and his ancestors embellished the city with churches and palaces, fountains, statues, works of art. Our festival of fireworks is the biggest in Italy. You should come and see them for yourself, my lady.'

Despite herself, Lucrezia is moved by how passionately this man talks about his domain. 

'I love fireworks,' she confesses.

The duke's smile turns sad and wise.

'Your brother is like a firework. Bright, impressive and alluring, but one stray spark - and everything around him will burn.'

Lucrezia sighs. This, too, is too close to the truth.

'We keep talking about my brother, but we seem to forget you, my lord,' she says playfully. 'Tell me about yourself. What pastime do you like? Is there a woman in your life who enjoys everything Ferrara has to offer?'

'I had a wife, long ago. Anna Sforza. She died at childbirth. I haven't taken a wife since then, although it may change. Now that my father passed away and I'm the duke of Ferrara, I will need an heir. And I admit, there is a woman I would be happy to call mine. But I have been enjoying the bachelor lifestyle for quite a while, fishing, hunting and reading at my leisure. It will take effort to change that.'

Lucrezia snorts in a very un-ladylike manner.

'I sincerely doubt that fishing, hunting and reading were the only things you did. You are terribly well-informed.'

The duke laughs heartily.

'Most of my reading is correspondence,' he explains. 'When you are a lord of a city, you need to know the ways of the world, even if you are not particularly fond of politics. I know how the game is played. Enough to survive and keep my legacy safe.' 

A rider approaches the duke and starts whispering to his ear urgently. Alfonso listens, and his face hardens.

'My lady, I'm afraid you will have to return to the carriage. Your son is already there. We'll need to ride slightly faster. Your brother managed to track us down, after all.'

Lucrezia gives him her most charming smile.

'I told you so.'

'So you did,' he answers. He looks concerned, but not much disturbed. Lucrezia knows him enough by now to suspect he has a plan for this outcome as well.

'How about letting me go?' she asks.

'I will have to ask you to wait for another hour or so, until we reach the place I have in mind. If I am to meet Cesare Borgia, I would like to do it on my terms.'


	4. Chapter 4

When Lucrezia is out of the carriage again, the landscape has changed. They are in a small valley between two granite hills. The steep slopes are covered with trees. Lucrezia doesn't know how many archers are hiding there. She spies at least a dozen. 

On the other side, the valley is getting wider. Through the opening she can see a vast pasture they crossed earlier. The green plain is spotted with black dots. Riders. And the first of them all, Lucrezia cannot see, but she knows in her heart, is Cesare Borgia, clad in mail, galloping to her rescue.

The man who kidnapped her is calm, albeit paler then usual. He stands next to Lucrezia. Behind them, a maid is holding little Giovanny. There are barely three score of soldiers with them. Lucrezia knows there were at least twice as many people. They probably are hiding in the forest, instructed by their lord. 

When Cesare rides into the valley, Alfonso steps forward, hand in hand with Lucrezia. Cesare dismounts and runs to his sister. His soldiers form a rank behind him, ready to attack. 

'Your sister is unharmed.' The duke says, while siblings pull each other into an quick, but very close embrace.

'Then you are in luck,' the Borgia responds. 'Your death will be quick.'

'I would suggest you take her and the boy and let us go,' Alfonso says, his voice steady and quiet.

Cesare sneers. 

'And what if I decline your generous offer?' he asks mockingly.

'Then we fight,' the duke replies calmly. 'Your weary infantry against my archers. You only have a vanguard with you. It will be a bloodbath.'

The Borgia is already putting his hand up, ready to give a signal.

'And _she will watch_ , ' the duke adds. 

Cesare stops dead and casts a sidelong look at his sister. Lucrezia pales. She is no novice to blood, but it doesn't mean she is used to it. Quite the contrary. After the death of Alfonso d'Aragona the mere thought of blood is disgusting to her.

'Please, Cesare,' she says. 

And he complies.

***

'Are you sure he has not mistreated you?' Cesare asks, his eyes dark. 

'Looks like you almost wish he had!' she teases her brother laughingly. They are back on their way to Forli. Lucrezia rides in the familiar carriage the duke of Ferrara gave her to amend for the inconvenience.

'No, sis, of course not,' Cesare kisses her passionately. 'But I wanted to make sure he wasn't....'

'He was very gallant,' she interrupts. 'Actually, I quite liked him. We wanted to marry me off anyway. Why not to him?'

Cesare's eyes blaze.

'You _quite_ liked him,' he repeats, his voice thick with menace. The pause that follows is so uneasy it's palpable. Finally Cesare cannot keep it back any longer.

'Did you take him as a lover?'

Lucrezia smiles.

'Remember the time when my Moor died?' she says slowly, 'I asked you a question then. _You will never lie to me, won't you, Cesare?'_

'Lucrezia...' Her brother's voice is almost a growl. 

'No, we are not lovers,' she admits. 'Although I am thoroughly tempted to claim we are. Just to hear the exquisite cover up story he would come up with.'

***

Cesare's lovemaking is quite fierce tonight, his kisses savage. He claims her, his avid hands brand her as his. 

Lucrezia closes her eyes, giving herself to him. She still didn't have enough of his love, of his body, of him. She is not ready to leave him, not yet. But it's good to have a choice.

***

She is married to Alfonso, Duke of Ferrara, in less than half a year. Her new husband's touches are as elegant and elaborate as his speeches. They will never compare to the fire Cesare's hands wake in her, but they definitely have their charms. When pleasure peaks, Lucrezia cries out. 

'You told me you loved another,' she reminds her husband afterwards.

'So I did,' he agrees.

'I did my research,' she informs him. 'I found no woman to hold this place.'

'There is one. My wife.' The duke pulls her close.

'Explain.'

'I needed Cesare Borgia as an ally. And the only way to make a valuable ally out of him is you. But that's not the main reason.'

'What is then?'

'You. You are an outstanding person, a pearl among women. I wanted you from the moment I laid my eyes on you.'

'Usually people just ask for my hand.'

'If I were to approach you as a suitor I would be one of many. You are a player, Lucrezia. You like games. You like riddles and intrigues and hints. You need to be interested, lured in...'

'So it was all a game?' she demands, indignant.

'The best game, my lady, is the one played with true zeal,' he tells her. 'Did you like mine?'

Lucrezia looks in the grey eyes and sees the peace she has been longing for for so long.

'I think I did,' she finally admits.

She has Cesare, Cesare the warrior, Cesare the schemer, Cesare the fire in her veins, Cesare the love of her heart. But, as a wise man has put it, sometimes one can be in desperate need of a safe haven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Alfonso d'Este technically did not become duke until 1505, while Lucrezia married him in 1502. Alas, when picking between real history and a nice story, I'll always go for the latter :)


End file.
